


Solitude of Autumn

by lostinthegoldenpines



Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romantic Fluff, Springdove, snufmin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 21:29:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21204383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinthegoldenpines/pseuds/lostinthegoldenpines
Summary: Moomin realizes that the solitude of fall really represents the loss of Snufkin every where for him, but that isn't always a bad thing





	Solitude of Autumn

**Author's Note:**

> This is a birthday fic for @tootickysgf! I hope you like it dear!

He wasn't sure why, but Moomin had woken up in a rather terrible mood. Everything seemed wrong with the world and he wasn’t quite sure of what to make of it, but he felt awful. He felt between arguing with someone, a really horrible sort of bickering, and just absolutely crying. He didn’t want to stay in bed but he didn't want to stay in the house. Breakfast seemed to drag on, with Moomin sulking in his chair until he finally snapped at Little My for stealing his last blueberry pancake, for which he only mildly apologized for. He wasn’t really sorry, not truly.  
It wasn’t until Moomin went outside that he saw the golden leaves tinged with red, and as the wind stirred and a few fluttered to the brownish grass that he realized what the cause of his terrible mood was. It was fall. Fall meant the leaves tumbling to the ground, trees becoming bare. It mean colder days and longer nights. It meant Snufkin was leaving. Moomin walked around for a bit, trying to seem as if he was off doing some very important, but in his heart of hearts he was trying to catch a glimpse of Snufkin. But Snufkin was not playing the harmonica on the bridge, nor was he by his tent fishing or making new lures. He wasn’t inside his tent reading, and the old wood on the campfire suggested he hadn’t been around for a few hours.  
Discouraged, Moomin kicked at a small pile of leaves and walked towards the woods. He hoped to find Snufkin, but he knew if he out and out searched, he’d never find Snufkin. Snufkin, who was wonderful and smart and so good liked to be alone a lot. He liked his solitude. Moomin could understand that. He could understand needing time to be alone, and enjoying it. Walking for hours by oneself simply for the enjoyment of being alone. But he couldn’t understand the months of it. The months of solitude, the months of not talking to another soul on purpose. He could understand that if one was hibernating, but not to do it on purpose! Or perhaps he did understand it, if he thought about it greatly. But it still put a soft ache in his chest, and perhaps a tear or two in his eyes. 

Thoughtfully, and rather unhappily, Moomin found himself sitting under a small tree, wiping away at his tears. He wanted Snufkin to have his freedom and his joy and his solitude. It still was a bit hard, though. And that was okay, Moomin supposed. It was okay to miss someone terribly, even one was happy for them. Taking a deep breath and letting it out, Moomin watched the puff of air escape like a cloud. He did it a few more times, imaging himself a dragon, before he let out a loud sigh. He felt much, much better. Enough to even enjoy the colors of the trees. Some where only one color, like a dark plum purple or fire red. Others were multiple colors, like orange melting into red or yellow and green.

“They remind me of Mr. Hemulen’s fireworks in a way,” Moomin said out loud, not to any one in particular but himself, just for the simple pleasure of hearing a voice in the chilly air. A few blue birds flittered on by and Moomin picked up a red leaf and a purple leaf next to him. “I wonder which would Snufkin like better?” 

“I have to say, I’d rather enjoy the red one. It’s very bright and cheerful looking.”  
Startled, Moomin jumped and looked around before glancing up. Sitting in the tree above him was Snufkin, smoking his pipe and fashioning a wreathe of leaves for his hat. They both waved at each other before Snufkin began to climb down to join Moomin. 

“Hello Snufkin! I didn’t notice you up in the tree at all!” Moomin cried out happily, his tail wagging. 

“Yes I know! I wasn’t sure what to do when you came crying under the tree. I was afraid you hadn’t noticed my messages for you I left by the campfire.” 

Moomin frowned for a moment, trying to recall any notes, and then remembered the small pile of leaves he had kicked. 

“Oh dear, I did find your message but it didn’t quite connect for me until just this minute.” 

“You usually pick up on those sort of things right away, are you alright?” Snufkin asked as he put the final touches to the wreathe. It had multiple colors in it, along with sprigs of red and white berries. After Snufkin had arranged it on his hat just so, he reached over and took Moomin’s paw in his, and led him on a walk.  
Moomin twitched his ears to show he was happy, but he did feel rather embarrassed for having missed Snufkin’s message. 

“Ah. I was thinking about, the beauty of fall and the solitude it brings, and how that can be rather depressing and sad, but also alright.” Moomin said carefully. It was the truth. It wasn’t a lie. He just didn’t have to mention that for him, fall and all it represented was directly linked to Snufkin, just as spring was a positive connection, fall was a sad one. He didn’t want to let Snufkin in on the secret, because it would spoil fall for him. Snufkin loved the fall, loved the solitude, loved the idea of going to see new places and people. Moomin didn’t want to ruin that in any way, shape, or form. He didn’t want Snufkin to feel guilty for leaving. “It’s in falls nature, I suppose, to be both lovely and lonely at once. But for now, I’ll just think of the pretty colors and wonder if the berries in your hat are edible or not.” 

“They are not edible in the slightest, so please don’t eat them.” Snufkin chuckled. He squeezed Moomin’s paw. “I feel all those things about fall myself, but I rather embrace the loneliness.” 

“I know.” 

“Still, it’s okay from time to time to not be alone.” Snufkin hummed. 

Moomin smiled sheepishly, and felt rather proud that out of all the places Snufkin could be at the moment, he was choosing to spend it here with Moomin. 

“Shall we explore Lonely Mountain? See if we can find some bat filled caves?” 

“They can’t be filled with bats, otherwise Sniff will be afraid and never come.” 

“That’s exactly why they should be filled with bats.” 

They both chuckled and Snufkin let go of Moomin’s paw to take out his harmonica. Feeling a bit overwhelmed, Moomin hurried up the path and stood in front of Snufkin’s way, his heart racing. Snufkin wasn’t quite paying attention and looked up in time to bump noses with Moomin. Snufkin blinked in surprise a few times before flushing a pretty pink. Moomin’s face was flushed as well, his tail wagging. He wasn’t quite sure why he had done it, but he was glad he had. They stared at each other for a moment or two before, noses still touching. Moomin’s stomach felt warm and his spine had felt electric earlier. Now it felt jittery with chills. Snufkin pressed his nose a little more into Moomin’s before planting a kiss on the tip of Moomin’s snout. Clearing his throat, Snufkin then walked around Moomin and put the mouth organ to his lips. 

“Perhaps I’ll write a fall tune about what just happened.” 

Moomin let out a giggle and skipped around Snufkin. 

“I’d love to hear it sometime when it’s finished.” 

“I suppose that’ll be in spring then, though, perhaps not, since I can only play spring tunes in spring. If I were to play a fall tune in spring, well, it’s not very traditional.” 

“You’ve never been a traditional person in the slightest.” Moomin scoffed. He was certainly in a much, much better mood. 

“Well, you’re right about that.” Snufkin agreed with a laugh. They paused to chuckle and Moomin startled slightly as Snufkin kissed him on the cheek. “This is a tradition I wouldn’t mind sticking to, however.” 

“I would be inclined to agree.” Moomin professed, their paws linking up again. “Very much so.”


End file.
